Hunter's Games (17 page)

I should really try to help them get out of here… but I just can’t find it in me to do it. These three are nothing but a colossal waste of life. I’ll let fate decide what happens to them.

I walk out of the apartment and into the corridor. There’s a sea of bodies—both Red Dragon and Turner’s men, leading from the doorway down to the elevators and the stairs.

Jesus—it’s like a goddamn slaughterhouse in here!

I navigate the minefield of corpses and stand at the top of the stairs. I look over the handrail, all the way down to the first floor. From what I can see, pretty much every floor is the same. I can hear voices below—sounds like some Triads are still alive, which means they’ll be coming to re-group with their Boss. I look at the Browning in my hand, which has maybe seven rounds left in it.

Hmmm… the numbers are against me. How the hell am I getting out of here?

Oooo, light bulb moment!

I rush back to Turner’s apartment, stepping over Soo Yung’s still unconscious body and over into the kitchenette. I quickly raid the cupboards, looking for something useful. I find two bottles of vodka and a pack of cigarettes with a lighter.

I smile. These will do nicely.

I tuck the Browning in my waistband at the back and move over to the oven, turning all the gas burners on full. I grab both bottles of vodka in one hand and the lighter in the other and turn to walk out of the apartment.

I glance over at the women on the sofa. Two of them have passed out and the third one is looking at me curiously.

“You might want to consider getting out of here,” I say to her, but she doesn’t reply.

I shrug and walk away. “Suit yourself…” I mutter.

I walk toward the door but Soo Yung stops me, grabbing my ankle as I walk past. I look down at him and see he’s trying to say something, but he can’t get the words out because of the dislocated jaw. I kick him in the face with my other foot.

“Piss off,” I say to him.

I stand in the doorway and tuck one bottle under my arm, as I open the other, and pour it on the floor just inside the room. Walking backward down the hall and toward the elevator, I pour a thin trail of vodka as I do.

I reach the handrail by the stairs and can hear shouting below me. I quickly glance over the edge and see at least ten guys running up the stairs toward me—all Triad.

I empty the bottle and open the second one, pouring a small pool of it at the top of the stairs before trailing it back to the elevators. I place it on the ground and, using my fingertips, force the doors of the elevator open. I slide them apart and look down the ten story shaft, glimpsing the roof of the elevator below. I let out a heavy sigh.

Heights have never been a favorite of mine… I haven’t really thought this through have I?

I hear the noise of the men getting closer behind me.

Well, no time for fear now.

I finish emptying the second vodka bottle on the floor by the doors and without thinking, I step out into the abyss, grabbing hold of the thick cables running down the center of the shaft. I grip them tightly and wrap my feet around it. Putting one hand underneath the other, I slowly move myself down. I stop when my head’s level with the floor and get the lighter, flicking it on and holding it for a moment, watching the flame flickering in my hand.

I glance down and close my eyes briefly, steeling myself for what is going to have to be a very quick descent.

I open my eyes again and throw the lighter up through the doors. I hear the faint whooshing sound as the trail of vodka catches fire.

Time to go!

As quickly as I dare, I climb down the cables. My hands soon start to sting and burn, but I ignore it. I’m keeping count of how many sets of doors I pass, so I know how far down I am without having to look below me.

I’ve just passed the fifth floor.

I hear screaming above me. I’ve got just a few more seconds before that trail of alcohol leads the flame into the apartment filled with gas… With a bit of luck, the remaining Triad men will make it in there just in time.

Third floor.

The cable shakes as I hear the explosion, almost causing me to lose my grip. Looking up, I see a huge fireball enter the shaft and force its way down toward me.

Oh shit!

I start to fall. Looking up again, the cable whips and lashes toward me, being chased by a cloud of fire. The blast must have snapped it…

Thankfully, I don’t have that far to fall, but it’s still close to two floors. I land heavily on the roof of the elevator, pain instantly shooting through my entire body. I wince, but I know I have very little time to get out of here. I scramble to my feet and stomp on the security vent on the roof. It takes me three kicks, but it eventually falls into the elevator. Quickly, I jump into it, diving through the open doors and into the lobby. As I land, the explosion completely engulfs the elevator shaft and billows out behind me.

There’s a loud roar as the flames rush over me. I cover my head with my hands and make myself as flat as possible. The heat scorches my skin, and the stench of burnt vodka and flesh stings my nostrils.

After a few seconds, it’s over.

I push myself up and rest on all fours, catching my breath. My arms are burning from the workout of climbing down the cable. It seems I’m not as light as I used to be…

I look up at the front door, only to see the large twins both standing with their mouths open, in complete shock.

Speaking of not being as light as we used to be...

I stand up, dust myself down and stretch to crack my neck and back. I draw Soo Yung’s gold Browning and level it at the pair of them.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” I say. “I’ve had a really bad day. I’ve just killed Joseph Turner and most of the Red Dragon Triad—including its boss, Jak Soo Yung. Before that, they killed the majority of Turner’s men. I’ve also just blown up probably the top three floors of the building, hopefully killing any stragglers. I can’t be bothered fighting with you two, and trust me, you two don’t wanna try to fight with me, either. What say we all forget we saw one another, and we live to see another day?”

They look at each other, and then throw their guns down, turning and running for the main doors. Well, I say ‘running’... it’s more like an awkward waddle, but you get the idea.

I breathe a sigh of relief and walk slowly out of the main doors.

13.

13:40

I’M SITTING IN the conference room in the FBI Field Office, at the head of the table at the far end, with the TV behind me. To my immediate left and right are Agents Wallis and Johnson respectively. At the opposite end of the table is Agent Chambers.

The mood is… tense, shall we say.

I’d walked out of Turner’s apartment building and seen bodies—and
bits
of bodies—littering the sidewalk. I looked up and saw the top of the building on fire. Must’ve been the top three floors easily.

I smiled to myself, walked back to the car, climbed in the back beside Johnson, and we’d sped off as fire crews and local police began showing up.

We made our way back to the Field Office and I was ushered into this room with very little interaction from anyone. The three of them disappeared for a while and only came back a few minutes ago.

Chambers stands and leans on the desk, looking at me with disappointment in her eyes.

“Adrian, we trusted you,” she says. “What the hell happened in there?”

I shrug. “It went south,” I reply. “It started off alright—Jak Soo Yung arrived just as I was conducting the deal with Turner. I managed to plant the file on Turner’s laptop, and Soo Yung found it like I’d hoped he would.”

“So what went wrong?” asks Wallis.

“The Red Dragon came a little more prepared than I anticipated. They brought a goddamn army with them—must’ve taken out nearly all of Turner’s men and were coming for me. I had no choice but to fight my way out.”

Chambers sits down again and massages her temples, struggling to get her head around what’s happened.

“Adrian, you killed one of the largest black market weapons dealers in the country
and
single-handedly destroyed an entire Triad operation,” she says. “The repercussions this will have on the streets don’t bear thinking about. What have you got to say for yourself?”

I shrug. “I don’t know… you’re welcome?”

She shakes her head and leans back in her chair and the room falls awkwardly silent.

“Did you find anything out from Turner about Pellaggio?’ asks Wallis after a moment”

I reach down and take off my shoe, sliding the heel back and taking out the USB drive. I slide it over to him.

“What’s this?” he asks.

“I found it on his laptop,” I say. “Well, on an external server. It’s a rather long shopping list of disturbingly high-quality weaponry and tech—including a Remington—from a few days ago, along with an address where Turner delivered them.”

The agents exchange looks and Wallis gets up and leaves the room.

“At least you did something right,” mutters Johnson, a little too loudly.

“Hey, it was either that or die in there,” I say. “Sorry I chose not to sacrifice my life for the sake of your bureaucracy.”

“Cut it out, the pair of you,” says Chambers. “This isn’t the time. We need to focus on finding Pellaggio and stopping him before anyone else dies.”

Wallis re-enters holding a laptop. He sits back down without a word and opens the lid, connecting it via a cable that allows his screen to be displayed on the TV behind me. He connects the USB drive and opens up the file it contains.

Silence falls as the three of them stare at the screen behind me, reading through the list. I watch Chambers. I see her expression change, as mine had when I read it.

“I don’t even know what half of this stuff is,” she says.

“It’s all bad, trust me,” I explain. “Especially in Pellaggio’s hands.”

They all finish reading and look at each other, worrying as the numerous possibilities of what this stuff could be used for crosses their minds.

“Right, Johnson, I want eyes on that address,” says Chambers after a moment. “Get me a real-time feed, plus still images going back seven days at thirty minute intervals. If he’s there, I want to see what he’s doing. If he’s moved on, I want to know when, and where to.”

“On it,” he says, standing and leaving the room, breaking into a run as he crosses the office floor outside.

“Wallis, I want you to work on this list of weapons. Where could Turner have gotten his hands on all this to sell it in the first place? This is all military-grade, so start there. We want to know of any missing shipments, serial numbers—the works. If we can find out where it came from, we might be able to get some help from the real owners in getting it all back.”

“No problem,” he says, standing and racing out of the room as his colleague had just done.

She turns to me and gives me another disapproving look.

“What?” I ask, innocently.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she says. “Maybe I’m a little annoyed about the fact you blew up half a tower block and killed God knows how many people? How do you do such things so frivolously?”

I take a deep breath and sigh. “Grace, it’s not like I do things like this for fun, or take them lightly,” I say, finding myself trying to reassure her in some way that I’m not a psychopath. “I was defending myself, that’s all.”

She looks away, resigning to the fact that she’ll probably never understand what it’s like to have to deal with that kind of situation.

“Hey, on the bright side,” I continue. “At least you’ve got one less arms dealer in your city. Look at it as an opportunity.”

“How can I possibly do that?” she asks.

“You talk about the repercussions on the street… when the Red Dragon was in charge, they dictated what happened and you guys let them. Be it out of fear or diplomacy or whatever you want to call it. But now, there’s no one in charge. Nobody was big enough to take over before, which means they won’t be big enough to do it now. They’ll fight among themselves first. This is your chance to step in and put them in their place, let them know there’s nothing to take over—that the law is back in charge.”

I smile, and after a moment, she smiles back, albeit shaking her head.

“Maybe you’re right… You never cease to amaze me,” she says. “Finding a silver lining in every cloud seems to be one of your many talents.”

I shrug with light-hearted humility. “Years of practice creating the clouds,” I reply.

Chambers takes a deep breath and leans back again, rubbing her neck. I can imagine how she feels. My instinct is to rush over there and put a bullet in Pellaggio’s head, but there’s no way it would be that simple. For one, I doubt very much he’s still there. And two, it was probably more important to find out what he’s done, or intends to do, with the stuff on that list.

I look at her. Even though she’s tired, she still looks great. She wears very little make-up, but doesn’t really need any. She stretches her arms up and arches her back. I feel bad for so many reasons, but I can’t help but steal a quick look at her. The way her white blouse falls and rests on her body, clinging to the right places, and showing off all the work she puts in at the gym.